


In the Middle

by sadrifice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Dancing, Drarry, EWE, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hogwarts, Kissing, M/M, Pansmione - Freeform, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Song fic, Talk of Previous Relationships, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadrifice/pseuds/sadrifice
Summary: ~You said you're into closureShake hands like you're supposed toI'll be in the middleWhile you two get along.~





	In the Middle

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i don't own this shit blah blah blah

 

* * *

  
~

“What are you doing Friday?”

Hermione Granger brushed into the living room of her best friend's, Harry Potter, leaving green flames that crowned her moments ago trailing behind her.

Harry, jumping at the whirl of the Floo Network and the unexpected visitor, had one hand to his chest, and his wand firmly clenched in his other fist, “Christ, Hermione. Give a bloke a warning next time, yeah?”

Hermione slightly tinged, and smiled apologetically. She didn't mean to intrude or encroach on his personal privacy, but she was so excited that she almost forgot herself. She wanted this to work so much, that she forgot about the anxiety it may cause Harry from not knocking before barging in.

“What's Friday night?”

Hermione gathered herself once more, her excitement flaring again. “What are your plans?”

“I was going to order in and watch a movie.”

“Good, you don't have any,” Hermione skimmed and ignored Harry's slightly indignant noise. “We are going out.”

The tone of Hermione's voice left no arguments or disagreement. The jury was final, Harry _was_ going. This was the tone used usually when Harry left things to the last minute and procrastinated all he could before he actually had to do work, or be fired, or worse, be reprimanded by Professer McGonagall. Hermione ordered and organised him, and helped the way she could, although Wizarding Law was where she expertised, not teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Usually going out on a Friday would be an unthinkable torture as he would be exhausted from week's past of corrections of homework and teaching young witches and wizards but school was on holiday now, as the date was just touching the break of June.

He couldn't use work or sleep deprivation as an excuse and with falling ill just around Friday would never been bought, he was running out of options.

Just as Harry was talking himself into acceptance of inevitability, he remembered to go over just what he was getting himself into.

“I'm sorry, we?”

“Yes, you and I,” Hermione paused, thinking wether she should tell a little fib, just to get Harry to agree, but thought against it, “..and some others.”

“Some others? As in Ron, and a few locals we know?”

“Well..”

“Hermione, no.”

“But, Harry!” Hermione tried to tone back the shade of whine that slipped into her voice, “I have people I want to you to meet, and I already told her you would be there, you have to come.”

“Who is 'her'?” Harry asked, slightly annoyed that Hermione already committed him to plans without informing him, and just expected him to drop everything and go. What if he had plans Friday night? They both knew he wouldn't, but what if he _did_?

“ _She_ is my girlfriend.”

That seemed to pique Harry's interest. Ever since Ron, Hermione hasn't had any serious relationships, only flings that lasted a couple of weeks. She never really found anyone worth the fuss.

While she loved Ron with all her heart, it wasn't with all her soul too. She imagined marrying him but not spending eternity together, which was what she wanted - what she deserved, and for Ron too.

Hermione wanted a soulmate, not just lover, and she thinks she may have found that within this new bond in the connection she has with her girlfriend.

She desperately wanted Harry and Pansy to at least be civil to one another. Harry was the world to her but so was Pansy, now too. Hermione didn't want mistakes made a few short years ago to hinder what her life meant now. She'd long forgiven Pansy for anything wrong done out of self preservation, and she hoped Harry could, one day with the healing of time, see her way too.

Most of all, she wanted her two worlds to be able to be in the same room with each other and not absolutely crash.

“Who is she?”

“You'll have to come Friday to find out, won't you?”

“Hermione, that's not _fair_! Also, I don't quite fancy spending my Friday night as a third wheel, then getting fazed out and left when you decide to leave together!”

Hermione huffed, slightly insulted that her friend thought she would forget about him. _Well_ , she seemed to forget just about everything whenever she came around, but that was besides the point.

“I won't forget about you! Plus, I have a friend of her and I's who will be coming along. He's also going to not want to be alone, and you're going to be there for him.”

“Who is this, a secret boyfriend as well?”

Okay, Harry was slightly stung that Hermione wouldn't tell him. He was her best friend, it wasn't like he had a vendetta over someone who clearly made her this happy.

He only wanted to learn about this mysterious girlfriend, and now he could actually talk about and get between arguments without upsetting both of his best friends. It was weird after the break up for a while, as both were still in love with each other, but everyone knew it was for the best and tried to move on as best they could. Now, it was just like before, only that Ron and Hermione don't hold hands anymore.

Hermione slightly glared, her mouth pursed in a disapproving line, “Don't be childish. Friday, seven pm. You best be ready and dress nicely, we're going clubbing. Also, for godsakes, Harry, _try_ to fix your hair to be presentable.”

~

Pansy Parkinson popped into existence via _apparition_ , smoothed down any wrinkles that may be in her dress, and breezed through the hallways of St.Mungo's.

The sounds of her heels clicking against the floors were heard over the noise of machines beeping and patients murmuring behind closed doors, which caught the attention of the hospital's secretary witch.

When she was spotted, the secretary's welcoming smile quickly dropped and morphed into an irritated grimace, “Ms.Parkinson. How may I help you?”

“Yes, I am here to see Healer Malfoy.”

The secretary hid her huff badly, “He is in his office, like he always is during this time of day. You need not ask all the time.”

“I know,” Pansy sent a too sweet simpering smile, and strolled off down the corridor.

Pansy noticed the ghastly shades of the hospital walls with mild disgust. Who knew why Draco would want to work here? The walls were painted milky white, almost eggshell. It was truly revolting.

Anymore time than usual spent here, and the walls could make her porcelain complexion reflect to look deathly pale. Which was not going to happen. She would be better to get through coercing Draco quickly.

When she reached his office, she knocked on the mahogany door twice. That was all of warning she gave before opening it and walking through.

“Draco, I'm changing our usual night out to Friday instead of Saturday.”

Draco Malfoy looked up from his Healer notes and immediately eyed Pansy suspiciously, “why?”

“I have invited my significant other, and a friend of hers. They want to meet with you, and the only good time is Friday. Friday it is.”

Draco's tone was slightly sulky, “Great, a night with _Granger_ and a complete stranger. Fantastic.”

Draco found out about Pansy and Granger when Pansy forgot to lock her wards and Draco _apparated_ right into the sitting room. He saw way more of his best friend and Hermione Granger than he ever wanted to.

While Granger was sometimes grating, she could be a good enough ally to have. She is smart enough, and her name certainly couldn't hurt him. They weren't as close as Granger wanted them to be, for some odd reason, but he could reach to call her a friend.

And, it's not like he was going to have to spend his life with her, that was Pansy's job.

“Now, Darling. I wouldn't call him a _complete_ stranger.”

“Him? I know them?”

“Yes, him. Yes, you know him, and no, I am not telling you who. Come Friday, to reveal the surprise guest.”

Pansy shushed Draco's objections, and ignored his pout of finality. She floated over from where she was leaning against his desk to press a kiss to his cheek, “Seven-Thirty, Friday, I'll pick you up.”

She _disapparated_ without telling him what occasion to wear for. She knew he'd look his best in anything he ever chose.

~

“Harry?”

Hermione's voice rang through the apartment at seven o'clock sharp on Friday night. This time, she'd remembered to at least give warning before barging into his flat.

Harry was in his bedroom, still getting his clothes on when he heard Hermione come through. He heard a second flare and the click of heels on the wood floor. He could hear Hermione talking, telling him to hurry up, but a second voice commenting on colouring and décor of the apartment.

He heard Hermione giggling and telling the second voice to be quiet as he walked into the sitting room. When he walked in, there stood Pansy Parkinson, left hand clasped in Hermione's.

Both women looked to him as he walked in and stopped to look at them.  
They looked good together; pale white skin against dark tones, hands contrasting but blending as they were clasped together. A warm smile versed icy politeness, familiar chocolate eyes blended against dark rich bark that were always filled with disgust before, but now hued with hesitance, longing for redemption and a tiny tint of hopefulness.

Pansy looked different from when she was leaving Hogwarts during the Final Battle. Her face looked more relaxed, no longer plagued with lines of worry and dark circles from lack of sleep everyone seemed to get that year, no matter what side you were on. Her hair was still in a short black bob that she had back then, but she grew into her facial features. He could see them more softly now that they were no longer scrunched in a constant jeer.

Her sneer was no longer present, in place instead was a slightly apprehensive timorous smile. Harry could tell that she wasn't enthusiastic about this meeting, but was doing it for Hermione. That was when he decided to at least give her a chance.

Harry noticed Hermione's hand squeeze Pansy's a tad harder. He didn't want to upset his best friend, the least he could for her was be amicable to her girlfriend. Especially when he can sense that Hermione had been anticipating this meet up for a long time.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hermione. Parkinson.”

“Harry,” Hermione's voice was tinged with a tiny bit of relief that he hadn't kicked up a fuss.

“Potter.” Parkinson nodded.

There was an awkward silence before Harry cleared his throat again, “Tea?”

Hermione, thankful for the distraction, fell down to the couch, dragging her girlfriend with her, "Oh, yes, please."

Harry nodded and snapped his fingers, summoning his House Elf, Kreacher.

Kreacher had not been happy about moving from Grimauld Place into this new apartment, but was pacified when Harry promised not to  
sell the house to anyone else. He followed Harry, with promises that he could vist the house whenever he pleased.

"Kreacher, three teas, please."

Harry saw Hermione's mouth settle into a disapproving line, but she didn't say anything. Clearly, apart of her S.P.E.W tendencies lingered from to today from Fourth Year.

Harry also noticed Parkinson's eyes melt a little into a fond exasperance, her face also lighting a tiny smile. When Pansy noticing Harry glanced at her, her face lessened some into a mask but he could still see the glittering affection for his friend.

They drank their tea, Harry and Hermione made small talk, with Pansy chiming in rarely. After half an hour, Pansy stood up.

“I'll meet you both at the bar, I'm just going to collect Dee-Dee,” Pansy and Hermione shared a look and a small amused knowing smile and then Pansy was gone.

Harry wanted to ask who Dee-Dee was, but figured there were more important topics to hand.

Hermione looked at him with hopeful understanding and acknowledgment that he might be upset with her. She understood if he was confused, she was too at the beginning, he might have questions and she'd hope that he would know that he could ask. Hermione nodded, smiling at him, giving him the go ahead.

“How did you two..er-meet?”

Hermione, giggled, clearly entertained with his struggling, “Hogwarts, Harry. I thought you knew this.”

“Hermione!” Harry whined at being made fun of.

Hermione's face settled into a more serious expression, albeit a smile still on her face, that turned a little reminiscent, “We met at a Ministry ball, I was there because of work, and she was there as a socialite. I saw her and figured that it was time to move on, that the war is over, and I can move on. This war cost us our childhood, but I _won't_ let it dictate my adulthood.

She apologised, which shocked me. I could see from the way she looked at me that she'd changed. We got talking, and it was amazing. I was right, she's changed so much since our school days. She's sharp, but sweet. And she's so so strong. She's brilliant and bright. She's insanely gorgeous, and witty, and smart. She's everything I've ever wanted.”

Harry nodded along to the story. Hermione had some true points; the war had been over for three years now, everyone was finally safe and starting to move on.

There was still nights he couldn't sleep because he couldn't hear Hermione's breathing or Ron mumbling in his sleep, or terrors awoke him, but he was slowly mending. He had come a long way since the year of and the Final Battle. He wasn't as skittish, and unexpected touches didn't scare him out of his skin anymore. He could be alone and not irrationally fret about his friends being dead, or horrible injured. He could finally relax, finally live for himself. He wasn't fully healed, but he was very nearly there.

“How did you forgive her?”

Hermione let out a breath, staring out into space trying to find the right words, “It was hard. God it wasn't easy, especially in the beginning. There were times that I'd look at her and see the girl who cut deep with her words rather than actions.

But she was just that, a girl. She was young. She was naïve, raised into it. She didn't know any better than what she was taught. Her regretfulness, now, says more than anything else. She knows now, that it was wrong. That is why I forgave anything she did.”

Harry wasn't surprised that Hermione had reconciled with Parkinson for those reasons, he had come to the same conclusion for Draco Malfoy, when he spoke for him at his trial.

They were all children during that time. They were all pawns in the war. Harry was raised as a weapon for the Light, just like the kids of Death Eaters' were raised for the Dark. Circumstance controlled who was on which side and people shouldn't be condemned for what they were born into, just like he shouldn't be celebrated for doing what he had to.

Harry decided to lighten the serious mood, “So, what does Parkinson do these days?”

Hermione's serious expression morphed into a more happy one, her eyes lit up, “Oh, it's wonderful, she's a interior designer, and she has all these books about shades of colour, and fabrics, and-”

Harry laughed, “Okay, Okay, Hermione, I get it.”

Hermione giggled back, “Oh, shush you.”

Harry didn't think he's ever heard her laugh as much, or be this excited about her life. But he had to make sure.

“..And she makes you happy?”

Hermione's eyes melted into a sparkling liquid gold, “Oh, Harry. She makes me so happy. Happier than I think I've ever been.”

Harry slowly nodded, that was enough for him, “Okay.”

Hermione responded in climbing across the couch to pull him into the tightest hug he's ever received.

~

They went to a muggle club. It seemed like the only logical place as this way Harry wouldn't be harped or surrounded, because no one knew him here. The thing that shocked him was that Pansy Parkinson agreed to go a _muggle_ club wholeheartedly.

When him and Hermione arrived, he could see Parkinson leaning against the bar, a sugary, colourful looking drink in her hand. He let go of his and Hermione's linked arms as he could tell Hermione wanted to practically run to her.

The strobe lights glared and bounced off of Harry's round glasses, as he made his way over to Parkinson too, and the bass of the music blaring through the speakers made the strings of his heart dance, and beat to the music.

The whole room smelt of spilt alcohol, LYNX lashed on in gallons, and cigarette smoke lingering on clothes.

The night club was semi-busy for a Friday night. Harry didn't feel too packed in, which was a good thing that it wouldn't set his claustrophobia on high. He thought it would be more busier, as it was the start of the weekend for many, but Hermione must of picked an outlandish sort of club.

Hermione and Pansy quickly kissed in greeting, Pansy's arms finding their way and sliding to hold Hermione.

Hermione turned around in her arms to face Harry again.

“Hi, Parkinson,” Harry said, to be polite.

“Evening, Potter.”

Hermione's head excitedly turned sideways to Parkinson, “So, where is he?”

“On the dance floor, somewhere.” Parkinson made a throwaway dismissive gesture with one hand, “Run along, Potter. I want to have some alone time with my other half.”

Pansy turned her and Hermione away and left before he could ask even who was he looking for. Harry looked around a little bit lost. He decided the dance floor would be his very best bet, as Parkinson said. He could always just make friends with anyone and hope for the best.

He glanced across the dance floor a couple of times before his eyes caught the light reflecting off of platinum blond hair. He'd know that hair from anywhere, having spent his teenage youth looking for it in crowds, and for it out of the corner of his eye.

There stood _Draco Malfoy_ , dancing.

Harry was shocked. To see Draco Malfoy in a club alone would have been surprising, but a muggle one was downright alternative universe worthy. What irritated Harry that he was fucking fantastic at it too. But what mostly baffled him was how attractive Malfoy became.

It seemed that the years had been good to Malfoy. He no longer looked sharp to touch, softening into his aristocratic features, making him look more friendlier. His skin was no longer ashen grey, rather a still cool but healthy pale, and he no longer had dark massive bags beneath his eyes. His hair was longer than the last time he saw him. He had the same cut from when they were in Third Year, but it seemed to suit him even more now that he had a warmer face to frame. He was taller, almost as tall as Harry, and from what he could tell, he was no longer boney skinny from skipping meals.

What shocked him most was the Dark Mark on his arm. Not that he had one, he knew he did, but the fact he could see through the see through lace shirt, that the Dark Mark was covered and surrounded by narcissus and pansy flowers.

Rather than a scared trapped teenaged boy, he looked free dancing to the music.

As Harry was staring at Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson seemed to materialise by his side out of thin air. Parkinson attached herself to his arm.

“Isn't he just gorgeous?”

Harry openly chose to ignore that question, he didn't want to give her the satisfactions of an answer. He could tell she probably knew it, anyway.

“Draco's already past his first shot, do try to catch up,” Parkinson said into his ear, as she pushed a drink into his hand.

“Thanks, Parkinson.”

“Oh, please. Do call me Pansy, I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

She smirked, removed her fingers from where they were pressing into his arm, and vanished from his side. Soon to be almost immediately replaced by Hermione.

“Come on, Harry. Let's have you some fun.”

Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the dance floor, or more towards Draco Malfoy, to be precise.

“Draco!”

Draco turned around after hearing Granger practically shriek his name, even if this was a muggle club, he could tell from others faces that it was uncouth in this culture too. That was until he saw who was behind Granger, any act of refinement went out the window.

“Potter!”

“Malfoy,” Harry slightly smiled in polite greeting. He figured if he was going to give Parkinson a second chance, one for Malfoy couldn't hurt too much. He also hopped his flush could be put down to the rising temperature in the room.

Draco was practically lost for words. Not only but The Boy Wonder was standing right in front of him, _smiling_. _At him_ no less. Being nice to _him_.

So, this was Pansy's plan. He could pick up signs during the week that she'd be scheming, he just didn't know it would involve himself. He could see from the glint of amusement in Granger's eyes that she was in on it too. Rather than get too into it, Draco remembered himself.

“Granger.”

“Draco, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Hermione?”

“Well then, hello, Hermione.”

There was silence where no one quite knew what to say, Hermione blurted the first thing that came to mind that could make this work.

“Harry would like to dance with you.”

Harry turned to Hermione, his eyes wide, shaking his head incredulously. Even Malfoy's eyebrows went up in surprise, his eyes blinking.

Hermione pushed Harry forward, despite his protests and stood in the middle of them. She wanted them to get along, and hopefully this would work towards that.

Harry's eyes locked with the glittering silver. They no longer looked as if made of steel, and Harry could even make out some emotions in them rather than just cold distaste of his youth. Up this close Harry could make out the darker shades of slate in his iris, surrounding them.

If anything, Malfoy had pretty eyes, even if he was a massive prat.

Although, he seemed friendly with Hermione, so that had to be a step up. Maybe, like Parkinson, he grew up, and out of his pureblood ideals.

“Well, go on, shake hands like you're supposed to.”

Malfoy looked at Hermione like she was mental, and then back to Harry. He seemed to find something in Harry's face because the next moment, he stuck out his hand.

The parallel was not lost to Harry. He remembered Draco's offer of a hand and him refusing it, on now he can see as a bunch of nonsense stereotypes. No one is inheritely evil because of what character traits they possess, there were many good Slytherins such as Regulus Black or even Horace Slughorn.

The war was based on prejudice and bigotry. The reason so many Slytherins were in Voldemorts ranks is because they were shunned by the rest of the houses and treated as they were monsters. The Wizarding World needed to get past their prejudice and maybe then the wars would stop.

He rejected Draco based on prejudice, but also on rudeness towards his friends, which was a catalyst to Draco bullying him and his friends, which from a grown stand point, he can see it was from jealousy, even if Malfoy would never admit it.

Harry will admit, there is times that he wonders how different things would be if he'd given Draco a second chance. Maybe, they wouldn't of been on opposites sides of the war; he could've given Draco the way out he clearly wanted. But what if's weren't going to get him anywhere.

He forgave Malfoy when he refused to identify him at Malfoy Manor. He _must_ of known it would've cost him when Voldemort found out he lied, but he still did it. Yes, it wasn't a grand gesture, but it saved Harry and his friends. If he was inevitability found out, he would've been killed, or worse.  
It was one of the reasons he saved Malfoy in the Room of Requirement.

Obviously Malfoy was contrite. He even was _during_ the war, when everything was still happening. Harry could tell he really didn't want to do anything he did, but felt he had to because his family was on the line.

After the war, and especially after the Malfoy trials, Harry will admit that he has thought about Malfoy. He wanted to know how he was doing, just for his complex purposes, of course.

Plus, he would like a little closure after the war with Malfoy. Harry has always felt that it was a very grey line with Draco Malfoy, and after Sirius' words, he didn't think he was all evil, but also not all good.

Ever since then he's noticed that, he noticed that everyone is a little grey, even himself. He shouldn't judge just based on wrong decisions or actions, it would be like someone judging him just for killing a man, even if it was Voldemort. Harry wanted to see the lighter side of Draco Malfoy, a good side of him.

Harry took Malfoy's hand, and shook it. He could see a small smile grace Malfoy's face, which pleasantly surprised him. It seemed like Malfoy could like to be friends like Harry wanted to.

Hermione smiled at the two of them, things were going to plan, "Have fun boys, I have to get back to Pansy." She quickly excused herself and left the two together.

After they were left alone, it was glaringly clear that this was a set up performed by their best friends; the only reason they seemed to be here was to act as a buffer so he and Draco didn't clash.

“This is obviously a set up, executed by the two wenches, Potter, so I am going to be a gentleman and give you a way out, if you want it. Do you still want to stay?”

“I mean, why not?” Harry shrugged, what could it hurt?

There was a silence where Harry was desperately trying to come up with a topic, when he remembered a part of the conversation he had with Hermione and Parkin-Pansy, earlier.

Harry's eyebrow raised in amusement, “So, you're Dee-Dee?”

Draco's mouth fell open, his eyes showed his outrage, “Oh no, she fucking _didn't_. I'm going to actually strangle her. That absolute slag.”

Harry was surprised to hear the prestigious Draco Malfoy do something as normal as swear and bitch about his best friend. He must not be as much of a uptight priss as he was in school then. Harry could work with that.

“Do me a favour? Call her Panda for the rest of time, that'll teach her.”

Harry's lips quirked, “Any reason for all the code names?”

“Oh, yes. When Pansy and I were children, we came up with them. _She_ is the one with an obsession with them and won't let them go; for Merlin sake, it was fifteen years ago.”

Harry was entertained about just how much it seemed to rile Malfoy up; it wasn't the same vindictive amusement from his school days to see Malfoy annoyed. Of course, he could tell Malfoy was more embarrassed than annoyed. It wasn't real viciousness. Once Harry knew that, it was a bit funny.

“Oh, I am amusing, am I?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Glad to see that my suffering is hilarious to you.”

Seems like Malfoy is still a queen. Good to see not everything has changed.

“C'mon, Potter. You must of had a nickname when you were younger. Tell me, it's only fair.”

Harry didn't want to even think of the week Ron had suddenly decided they all needed nicknames for each other. Harry became the awful 'Har', Ron was 'WonWon' as thought up by Lavender Brown, and Hermione became 'Mione', which was the only one that stuck.

“Nope. None at all.”

Draco rolled his eyes, albeit it was amusedly. He could obviously see right through him, “Okay, Potter.”

“It's Harry.”

“Pardon?” Draco thought he heard perfectly, he just wanted to make sure.

“My name is Harry.”

“Well, _Harry_. It's only fair that you call me Draco then. How about we go somewhere more quiet?

Harry's eyes widened at implication. He could feel his cheeks blushing despite himself.

“Not like that, Potter, get your head out of the gutter. Maybe later, though.”

Draco walked away expecting Harry to follow after him. He was correct as after a few seconds, Harry was right beside him, although beet red. Draco smiled at him and then walked towards the booths away from the speakers, so that he didn't have to shout to talk to Pot-Harry.

They both slid into the seats and both kind of stared at each other.

Draco noticed all the changes within Harry. His eyes no longer filled with anger with the world, peace finally finding him at last. His famous scar no longer a sweltering red, faded to a scared white. Although it was more a prominent colour against his dark skin, it no longer took over his face. Yes, it covered his forehead and ran down to the left across his eye down to his nose, but Draco couldn't imagine a more prettier face despite it.

Harry no longer looked exhausted and withdrawn, which was good as now Draco didn't have to secretly worry over him. Not that he could ever come close to admitting that, of course.

They both decided to quit their drinks and order soft ones instead. They both didn't want to wake up with a hangover, plus they wanted to remember everything that happens tonight.

“So, Harry. What do you do for a living?”

Harry felt like this was sort of a first date. Those were questions you asked when you wanted to get to know someone, weren't they? Harry figured that it was _kind_ of a blind date, technically.

“I'm a professor at Hogwarts, funny enough. What about you?”

“Oh well then, _Professor_ Potter, if you must know, I am a Healer.”

“Yeah? How is that?” Harry asked, interested. Harry played with the thought of becoming a Healer after the war, but figured he'd already seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime.

“It's good, I am of course the most competent of all those old coots they hire at St.Mungo's. I swear to Morgana, they only hire people born in five BC. You only get hired if you're born before the birth of Merlin himself, it's practically a requirement on the application form. They don't bother updating their medical education, either! It's all the old ways, _do_ _it_ this _way_ _Healer_ Malfoy, _do_ _it that way Healer Malfoy._ It may have worked in 1930, but okay, I can fucking do it better now that there's more research, and the internet actually bloody exists.

The only other young person, who may understand it, is Luna Lovegood, who I love dearly, she's one of my best friends, but Salazar, you cannot heal people with _flowers alone_. Luna is one of the best Healers in the country, but even sometimes I don't believe half the words coming from her mouth.”

A light blush suddenly settled on Draco's cheeks,“- I'm sorry, I never usually go off on one like this. It must be actually boring you to tears for you to hear about boring shit like my social work life.”

“No, no! I like to hear you talk.”

Draco's blush deepened. He tried to distract Harry from his face, “How is it teaching brats?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but let it go, “It's amazing, truly. If you remember, it was my favourite subject back in Hogwarts, something I was actually _good_ at. Teaching them and watching them grow into actual people, is remarkable. Especially when all they have to worry about is the latest gossip, not the destruction of the world.” He smiled, but it quickly dropped when he realised what came out.

Harry realised how many times he'd referenced Hogwarts, and also the war, and how that maybe a touchy subject between the two of them so early on. “Shit- I'm sorry, fuck. I should of never of brought it up-”

“No, Harry. We will have to talk about it, one day. Let's just enjoy ourself tonight, okay?”

Harry nodded, scared that he messed everything up but when he saw Draco's reassuring smile, he figured that things were okay.

Harry nervously laughed, “No wonder I'm single, I'm bloody awful at small talk.”

Draco's eyebrows raised, although he was rather pleased at the development, “You're single? The last I heard of it, you were still with Weaselette.”

“ _Ginny_ fell in love with Luna Lovegood, funnily. What about _you_ , Draco? Why are you alone on a Friday night?”

“Hmm, interesting, single,” Draco made no effort to hide his appreciative look. “But _actually_ , Potter, I was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass, a girl two years below us in Hogwarts. But, I _think_ that might of fell through when she ran away with Millicent Bulstrode to elope away from their families.”

They both looked at each other with barely hidden amusement, it seemed they had a lot in common in the love life department.

“Gordic, Potter. We really do have awful love lives.”

Harry laughed, “We do.”

They both laughed and quietened down after a moment. Then, Draco had an idea.

“Maybe, we could break our cycle as change that together,” Draco mischievously flirted, winking.

“Yeah, maybe we could,” Harry mused.

Harry wondered about a life with Draco Malfoy as a partner would be. Clearly Draco has previously shown that he can be difficult, but he's also easy going sometimes. Aside from being attractive, he was a lot of other things, also. He is smart from what Harry remembers in school. Life would never be boring with him, that's for sure, with how much of a prima donna he is. His sense of humour and Harry's were surprisingly similar, and Harry felt like he could have a good time with him, if he got to know Draco better. He felt like he could have a life with Draco, as they fit together really well. Which seemed rash to be thinking, but not only have they known each other for years, they could be in each other's lives for many more before doing anything even. Time was a virtue they had now.

Oblivious to Harry's turmoil, Draco kept talking, snapping Harry out of it, “I can't believe Luna never told me she stole your girlfriend. She never tells me anything important- it took two years to even find out her middle name.”

Harry rolled his eyes, he didn't want to laugh but it was funny. While it hurt at time, he could see now that his relationship with Ginny was more of a sister-brother bond. When he could see how much happier Ginny was with Luna now, he couldn't find it in himself to be resentful.

“Says you, Mr. my fiancé actually ran away from me to get out of our relationship.”

“Touché, Harry.”

Draco stared at Harry, smiling at him. Obviously Harry was aesthetically beautiful. But his person itself was also so gorgeous. He was so kind, it was like his soul was virtuous, almost pure. He's been through so much and he's still he's not bitter or cold like Draco would become if he ever had to go through any of what Harry did. Draco knew he would never be as inherently good as him, but maybe Harry could help him become a better person.

“Hypothetically, we actually tried and I asked you out on a real date. How would that go for you and I?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Completely.”

“I'd give it a go, yeah.” Harry didn't want to show his actual excitement at the proposition.

“And, of course, hypothetically again, we go on a date together, where exactly would we go and what would we do?”

“I reckon we try a restaurant, or just have dinner in general to start with.”

“So hypothetically, I pick you up at seven on Tuesday, you'll be ready?”

“Yeah. Hypothetically, I will be, yes.”

They both smiled at each other, softly.

Harry suddenly stood up and held out his hand, “C'mon, dance with me.”

Draco looked into his eyes, seeming to find something again, because he smiled and grasped the offered hand.

~

“Oh, just look at them!”

Hermione sat on her girlfriend's lap, leaning back into her as Pansy played with her massive head of hair.

She was currently watching her best friend and his secret date dance together, pulling each other close and laughing.

“They're so adorable together,” she cooed.

“Yes, Hermione, I get it. They're great together. I was the one to suggest this plan, remember?”

Hermione turned back to her girlfriend, “Yes, but oh, just look at them. They seem happy. They deserve to be happy more than anything, don't they?”

Pansy's heart melted, and she tucked a fly away curl behind Hermione's ear, “Yes, love. Of course they do.”

Hermione returned to leaning against her girlfriend's chest, watching the two once again.

Pansy placed a kiss atop of her girlfriend's head. It was true, they did look happy.

~

Le end


End file.
